


Scarred for Life

by ThatwasJustaDream



Series: Thank you fics - 2014 Brag Book on the LJ 1_million_words comm [7]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Gags, M/M, Riding, Scarification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:42:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3234992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatwasJustaDream/pseuds/ThatwasJustaDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve takes on a new tattoo, and a set of scars, to mark an important anniversary with his dom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scarred for Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heffermonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heffermonkey/gifts).



> This is a fic I started as a thank you for Heffermonkey for contributing to the 2014 brag book on the 1_million_words comm. Sorry it took a while to finish! It is set about two months after the end of the current BDSM story I'm writing - i.e. after the casefic I keep not quite finishing! :(. Why the muse can't go in order, I don't know, but...

“Need a breather, gorgeous?” Danny shifted on his feet, squeezing Steve’s hand. 

“No, I’m good,” Steve’s eyes opened briefly to meet Danny’s to show him he meant it and then shut again. “This is the easy part.”

Steve didn’t need to point out it also wasn’t his first time in a tattoo parlor chair. 

Still, Danny could see his breath rising and falling faster as the artist perched over Steve’s very exposed body went from filling in part of the design to outlining a new section. The needle buzzed loudly as it dug that tiny bit deeper and Steve flinched, squeezing Danny’s hand in return.

Gorgeous. He really was, Danny thought, gazing over Steve’s prone form. The placement of the design meant his shirt was pushed up and pants down, boxer briefs tugged low enough to leave his shaved pubic area fully accessible to the artist’s hands and tools. 

Seeing him this way; the full-length, adjustable, almost-recliner-like chair set at an angle to force his hips up and outward, pillows under his back and ass for support? It made him look delectable and vulnerable. Catnip for doms everywhere, really, Danny thought.

It also made what he had planned for tonight even more daunting. 

How did he ever end up being dom to such a big, hot, smart, and deeply needy subbie, anyway? Let alone his actual, committed, exclusive…what? Boyfriend? Lover? Danny hated labels almost as much as Steve did. Hopefully there’d only be one they’d ever needed again. 

If….

But if not? What then? Maybe all that would be left was picking up the wrecked pieces of the best thing he’d ever had.

So…. yeah. Daunting. Even if he wasn’t the one about to go under the knife.

~*~

“Excuse me,” Danny waved a hand toward the artist to grab his attention. “How are you with PDAs between clients? While you’re working, I mean?”

“Buddy, all I’m gonna say is I’ve seen things…” 

The artist was tall, greying, and scrawny to a degree that made you want to go buy him a sandwich. He was tattooed from the shoulders down everywhere that Danny could see. Also, he was named Giles, according to Steve. 

Giles barely looked up. 

“You’d have to actually ride him to get a blush out of me. And even then, I’m not promising.”

“That would be tricky,” Steve lifted his head to peer at where Giles was perched directly over him. “Wouldn’t it?”

“We’d all three be close friends by the time you walk out,” he said and Danny smiled at Steve’s quick, deep laugh.

The sound of it, that laugh, it was why Danny had asked it in the first place: To distract Steve for a while - to take his mind off the discomfort, and the deeper pain to come.

“Hey,” he leaned in once Giles turned his attention to the work at hand. “Kiss, please?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve whispered it against Danny’s lips, then reached the few millimeters between them to brush mouth against them, to give him a few soft, open-mouthed kisses before delving in with his tongue, sliding it along Danny’s deep and slow.

It was all about how Danny asked it: ‘Your mouth, please’ meant Steve should relax his and let Danny decide how to use it for both their pleasure - either with his own mouth or his cock or a toy. But ‘kiss, please’ told Steve he was supposed to run the show. Danny happily let him, humming the softest of sounds underneath the buzz of the ink gun as Steve stroked and sucked and then pulled away to nip at his lip. 

“So good, babe,” he said when Steve lay back, eyes hazy and relaxed. “Such a sweet mouth you’ve got. Lucky me.”

“I’m done with the tat,” Giles rolled his chair away from Steve eventually, dismantling the ink gun and then pulling off his gloves. “You’ll want me to touch it up in a couple of weeks. I’ll get the equipment ready for the rest of today’s work.”

“Great, thanks,” Danny watched him walk away and then focused on Steve. “You want to sit up? Want juice or something?”

“Coffee, I think…” Steve relaxed into the chair, and Danny sensed he was preparing mentally. “Mind grabbing us some at the grocery across the street? He’ll be a good fifteen minutes. He never rushes things.”

“Absolutely,” Danny was headed for the door. “Anything else? While I’m there?”

“Tylenol. And Vaseline,” Steve said, making a face when Danny waggled his eyebrows. “Not for that. Not tonight, at least unless it’s an order. It’s for the wounds.”

~*~

Danny was pretty sure he’d been the first of them to think of it: That a scar might be a good way to mark the one year anniversary of the night Steve had first submitted to him.

It wasn’t something Danny had ever considered asking of anyone else; a scar to mark a step in a relationship was about as close to permanent as things got. After today, a reminder of the two of them - of what they’d become to each other - would be etched not _on_ but _into_ Steve for the rest of his life. Even if _they_ ended.

Steve was the one who suggested it out loud, to Danny’s surprise.

“You’ll do that?” Danny had tried to keep how much he wanted it out of his eyes. 

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about it. I knew you’d have reservations, though.”

“I do,” He’d nodded. “Because I’ve always said I’ll never ask you to take anything I wouldn’t experience, too, and I meant it. But this….” 

Doms gave the scars. Subs took them. Sure, there were exceptions; couples that chose both to take on scars. But they both knew without discussing it only Steve would be receiving.

~*~

“Well done,” Giles set a lightly bloodied scalpel down on the ‘discard’ tray, and took a moment to change gloves. “Good for you, staying so still. The birds are finished. The cuts along the tips of the waves, as well. Need another break before we move on? Next part’s the worst.”

“No,” Steve didn’t press up on his elbows to take a look. He stayed where he was, flat out instead of just tilted back this time, eyes on the ceiling and blank. “Keep going.”

That’s how Danny knew Steve was finding it more than he’d expected; short words spoken heavily and an inward focus. It was a pity, he thought, that sexual masochists generally didn’t enjoy pain outside of sex any more than anybody else did.

“We could stick with only the birds and the waves?” Danny dipped in to mutter against Steve’s ear, but he heard an ‘ _mmm nnnnnn_ ’ in return that meant ‘no.’

The tattoo newly adorning the freshly shaved skin just north of Steve’s cock was of a highly stylized ocean wave breaking. The blue, grey, black and teal of it was marked up now with long sweeping cuts following the shapes of the wave. Those incisions would scar, as would the small, thin silhouettes of two birds flying above it that had been carved into him, too.

The waves and the birds were symbols of them and their life together. They’d been formed with three millimeter inch deep presses and drags of the scalpel into the skin that were not too much more painful than a tattoo. The rest of the scar would be made in the interior portions of the design that now sat alongside the wave: A triggerfish, the state fish, not quite the size of Danny’s thumb with brilliant colors separated into segments by thin lines of ink.

Giles was about to flay the skin away from two of the larger internal portions of the fish design with a fresh scalpel – not just drawing lines as he had with the wave and birds, but first outlining them with cuts, and then slicing underneath them to remove strips of skin a of about an inch and a half long and half as wide each. When the sections healed, the pinkish hue to those portions of the design would be pure scar.

They’d discussed on the way over how billions of humans went through far more pain and called it childbirth or even just daily life. But….. lying there, no distractions, not even the buzz of a tattoo gun, only the hurt and burn of his skin being sliced like sashimi?

“Oh…uh….all right. Okay.” Danny reacted to the bones of his fingers being pressed hard together in Steve’s grip, dipping in again to kiss his temple. “Won’t be long, now.”

“It’s okay…” Steve breathed it, trying to keep still and starting to fail. “Watch it, not me. Doing this for us. So…watch. One of us should.”

Danny did, eyes going to Giles hands; one gloved finger was sliding the flayed skin away as he worked the scalpel, pausing at points to dab sterile gauze at the site, the gauze turning crimson whenever he touched it lightly down. 

“One done,” Danny said as the artist angled differently, focusing on the last stretch of skin he would mar as perfectly as possible. “Almost there, babe.”

Steve made a sound that was as much frustration as pain as the blade made the first in the last set of cuts. Danny reached out to run the palm of one hand over the top of Steve’s head, to cup and caress it, and stroke a thumb over his forehead. 

“Awww…. _oh, helllll_ …..Danny,” It verged on a groan, Danny’s name coming out as about five syllables long. 

Danny chose to stop watching as a wave of dizzy swept him, leaning in instead to kiss Steve’s temple and murmur encouraging words to him.

“Careful, now,” Giles said when a press of his knife made Steve’s thigh quiver and nearly buck. “Don’t want an actual stab wound, do you?”

“Wouldn’t be my first,” Steve blurted.

Danny noticed Giles seemed suitably impressed by that.

~*~

“Sip, don’t gulp,” Danny handed Steve a glass of whisky – not a small one. It was a heavier pour than he’d normally serve up at four p.m.

“Why?” Steve asked but did sip, his empty hand behind him bracing his naked body where he sat on the edge of their bed. “Not like I took hardcore painkillers?”

“That’s not the reason,” Danny sipped from his own glass, feeling as nervous as Steve must have at the tattoo parlor earlier – and it wasn’t ‘cause he was standing there in his shorts, post-shower, almost as exposed as Steve. “….just…sip, okay? How’s it feel?”

“Right now?” Steve looked down at the plastic wrap over his abdomen, Vaseline and steri-strip tape holding it to him. “Hurts. Burns. Like it’s on fire. But the meds and the scotch will help. And it’s not like I got a whole, foot long section of me done.”

“People do that?”

“Sure. Some get a design that’s like a vine, with leaves running up and down it.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. This is less than half the cuts of something like that and…it’s enough.”

They’d just cleaned the site for the first time, and it would need some more attention again before bed, Danny thought.

“Uh… D, you looked stressed,” Steve observed, drinking again. “Isn’t the tough part of the day over?” 

“No. Not for me….”

“You don’t think I regret this do you?” Steve asked, worry in his voice. Then Danny saw an even worse thought in the actual process of forming in his brain. “You don’t regret it, do you? That we did this?”

“No, of course not. Stop it. Can you …just give me a second?”

Danny saw the fear turn to relief, and then Steve frowning like that flip in the switch between the two had pulled the last bit of adrenaline out of him for the day. Like he was done.

It wasn’t fair putting him though that. Win or lose, it was go time. Danny walked over to the other side of the bed and his own nightstand, pulling out a small velvet-covered box and bringing it back, flipping it open.

“There’s ….umm… another symbol, I guess you’d say, that I’m hoping you’ll wear. Though you can take this one off once in a while when you need to….”

He turned the box around and tilted it so Steve could see the two rings it held. One was deep gold, with a narrow rectangle of black topaz. The other was platinum, with an oblong sapphire that glittered blue and teal with flickers of white as Danny tilted it toward the bedside lamp. The sapphire was edged with a couple of rows of irregularly placed, extremely tiny sapphires with platinum around each one so that the central gem looked like it was surrounded by sea foam.

“Are you… serious?” Steve’s eyes never left the rings as he sat up taller and practically tossed his glass onto the nightstand. It rocked like it might tip before it settled. “Danny, are those…”

“Well they’re not from a gum machine, I’ll tell you that. You’ll be taking us to dinner for a month or ten, ‘cause … I kind of shot the bank on them. But I think they’re worth it, no?”

Steve only stared at them. Danny thought that his heart would be on the floor by his feet right now instead of just in the pit of his stomach if Steve weren’t also damp-eyed and nodding slightly.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, taking the platinum one out. “It’s customary to actually say either ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ Steven.”

“Hell, yeah,” Steve said and Danny smiled in relief at the words and how raspy they came out. 

“I’m going to need your hand,” he gestured and Steve finally moved, letting Danny slide the ring on. “Perfect. Geez, I knew it would look so good on you, and it does, it’s …perfect.”

“What about…” Steve nodded toward where Danny had set the other ring, in between their two glasses on the table. 

“Wait until the ceremony?” Danny asked. “Or do I wear it now?”

“Now,” Steve said, watching as Danny fished it from the box and handed it to him, let him slide it on Danny’s finger. 

“There. That’s why I brought us up a couple of strong ones,” Danny handed Steve his glass back, and offered up the side of his own for a ‘clink.’ “I figured either way…we’d need them.”

Steve took a long pull of the whisky and then pushed himself slowly up and onto the bed, his back finding the headboard. Danny got pillows to put behind them both and joined him, settling side by side with him, asking for Steve’s far hand so he could look at the ring on it some more.

“Wow,” Steve said. “Why now, Danny? What made you…”

“Why _not_ now? It’s only been a year and …I almost lost you once. You almost lost me, what, a month and a half ago? I figured we should aim for some happiness before someone who has it in for us actually succeeds.”

“Amen to that,” Steve leaned harder against him, the side of his face finding the top of Danny’s head.

“You okay?” Danny sat still as Steve went silent. “Feeling any mood drop because of … everything?”

“No.”

“You sure? ‘Cause it seems like…”

“I’m….content. Happy. I never know what to do with that. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Danny said. “Don’t be sorry. Start getting used to it.” 

~*~

“Oh babe…so good,” Danny grunted it out, reaching and grabbing at the headboard rail just north of where Steve’s hands were tied to it, taking him in all the way and riding him harder. “…fucking love your cock in me. Gotta do it like this more, huh? Don’t we? _Fuck,_ yeah, we do…”

Steve dug heels into the bed at the feeling of being balls deep in him, twisting, making a long, broken sound that suggested he strongly agreed though it came out muffled and distorted by the ball gag. 

It was hard to tell with the blindfold– Danny could usually see it best in Steve’s eyes -- but he sounded close to coming, so close. And from the shake in his own voice and the circling ache heading from his over-stuffed hole straight through his dick Danny knew he was, too.

“How bad do you want to come, Steven? C’mon…let me hear it…” Danny bounced faster and smiled at the groans he was hearing getting shorter and changing pitch, shifting into something that was almost a whine. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Barely holding on, huh?”

He’d wanted to give Steve a treat for the pain of yesterday, and the healing ahead. But damn…if it wasn’t hard to tell who was getting the better end of it.

“Look at you,” Danny leaned in to say it against his ear, hearing the shake in his own voice, squeezing around him as hard as he could with both of them bouncing. “Tied down, hands and feet. Mouth full, ass red from the paddle…”

And able to love it all – restraints, his favorite flavor of hurt, and a blindfold at the same time. No fear, no hesitation; the small rubber ball he could drop for ‘stop’ squeezed tight in one hand.

“Jesus, you should see yourself….hear yourself. Begging with your sounds like that. Such a fucking needy little pain slut. You love it, don’t you? Me seeing you like this?”

Danny did his best to keep his own eyes open, to watch with a grin as the hint of humiliation pushed Steve over the edge – watch him lose it, arms flexing and shaking so hard the headboard rattled, body twisting randomly now.

“Yeah….yessss….. fuck, Steven… _fuck_ ….”

He loved on the twitch and throb inside him, the feeling of cum filling him, the smell of sex and their mingled sweat. Loved on Steve going taut one last time before falling back, boneless… and then he let go, too. 

When they landed he freed Steve’s hands and mouth but left the blindfold on, urging him down flat with a hand as he breathed in long, heavy lungs full of air, pressing kisses to his mouth, his neck, his chest. 

Telling him all the filthy things he had in mind to do to his husband-to-be this week. One after the other after the other…..


End file.
